Far Too Pretty To Be Giving It Cheap
by Emono
Summary: In the time of Hart's Court, Shawn falls in love with a stripper named Nitro. Can he turn this pretty kid into the next WWE Superstar? HBK takes John's life into his hands. SLASH! This is John Morrison's story in my UNDER THE ROSE series.
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Far Too Pretty To Be Giving It Cheap**  
Author**: Emono**  
Rating**: FRM**  
Fandom**: Wrestling**  
Pairings**: Shawn/Morrison, Morrison/Tricks**  
Series: **_Under The Rose_ series**  
Summary: **In the time of Hart's Court, Shawn falls in love with a stripper named Nitro.**  
Disclaimer**: The WWE is not mine nor are any of it's child branches, it is the 96% property of the McMahon's and God bless the bastards that work for them. I respect the sexual preferences and identities of all the wrestlers on WWE roster, and who they share a bed with is really none of my business.**  
Warnings**: Slash, D/S, rape, smut, stripping, underage

**AN**: I cannot believe I'm writing this, I seriously CANNOT believe this! Consider this Morrison's story in the UTR series. I'm pretty sure several people requested this, but I told them no. I guess I was wrong, huh?

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The spotlight was hot. Isn't that what people always said? The limelight could burn you? Johnny had always craved attention; he'd always wanted everyone's attention on him. Well, he finally had it.

The bass beat of the remixed song pulsed through the floor, up the platform, and made the pole in his hands quiver. The multicolored lights were on him, crimson and jade danced over his nearly naked form in waves. His moves were graceful, lean muscle helping him bend and curve to tempt wandering eyes. He threw back his mane of blonde hair, exposing his blue-hazel eyes and gold painted lips. The leather pants he wore did nothing to hide his strong legs, outlining them as he moved around the pole. Glitter lotion had been rubbed deeply into his naturally bronzed skin, sparkling under the lights. He had the classic good looks that all men desired, a smooth jaw and clear skin. His body was waxed smooth for the job, but he was all man.

Though a bit on the skinny side, he was a beautiful creature to behold.

Johnny looked out into the crowd, trying to repress the disgust he felt welling up in his chest. He knew what they wanted; they wanted his pants to come off.

//They will, boys// Johnny smirked //Be patient.

Johnny had been working this club for only a month, but already he was a favorite. No man could resist him, and the few women that came in were just as bad. But he'd been stripping since he'd turned seventeen. It was the only way he knew how to support himself. The moment he'd graduated, his family had kicked him out for being a little faggot. He was bi, yet that didn't seem to matter. He'd shattered their dreams, and for that he was paying a heavy price.

It didn't help that he couldn't keep a job down for more than a few weeks. It always ended one of two ways. Either with sexual harassment, or he'd gotten himself so strung out that he'd have to take a day off just to sleep. Bosses didn't take too kindly to not calling in.

So here he was, showing his body for money. He wouldn't be buying a Porsche anytime soon, but he could support himself. Nearly two years he'd been taking off his clothes…he'd built up immunity to it. The leers, the cat calls, the whole 'nearly naked' thing. It wasn't so bad once you got used to it. He'd accepted a long time ago that he would never be anything but a sex object, that he was to be ogled at for the foreseeable future. Relationships were out of the question. Either his date was repulsed by his job, or he was a huge fan. It wasn't so bad to be alone. He was a coveted object, and he decided to put that to good use.

A few months ago, Johnny had resorted himself to the lowest of the low. Stripping wasn't making ends meet, not the way he wanted them to at least. So, after much crying and rationalizing, he got on his knees for his first trick. A few weeks in, he was on his back.

Johnny used allies and cars as his office, and he'd gotten much too good at offering himself up and seeing it through.

Though it left him feeling cheap and used, he could support himself fully now.

Johnny swung out, showing off the line of his neck before pulling himself back in with his grip on the pole. He looked out into the crowd once more; the place was pretty full tonight. There was a group not to far from his platform, about eight guys or so at one table. They were drinking beer and ogling some of the female tail around, laughing together. They seemed tired though, like they were winding down from a long day.

They were all built, all rather handsome.

//They might be from that wrestling event in town// Johnny mused, folding his leg around the pole and showing off the straps of his thong to some of the interested patrons behind him. He kept up with the song, giving the crowd what they wanted with each arch and low-riding sway.

Johnny couldn't shake the feeling of someone staring at him. Not the usual stare, this one was much heavier. His cheeks flushed, he could tell someone was staring intently at his face. It was strange. He was pretty hot, but most of the tricks just wanted his ass or his mouth. He raked his golden tresses and back out of his face, tipping his head back so he could look for the patron that was staring at him.

There was one man at the table of wrestlers that he couldn't stop his eyes from going back to, just one. The man's fierce sapphire eyes were the ones that had been burning into him. The patron had long, thick copper colored hair, spilling over his shoulders. Some sandpaper stubble graced his cheeks, golden under the dim lights. Tan, thick arms, handsome as sin. He wore a necklace made of two thick silver chains, the inner one smaller than the main chain. Wide circle links replaced any jewel, about an inch of extra chain hung from it and settled in the dip of his collarbone. A southern born by the boots and the worn jeans, strong and sure of himself.

The man watched Johnny without blinking.

Something hot bloomed in Johnny's belly, something he hadn't felt in a while. It was lust. He actually lusted after the handsome patron! He'd never felt so thrown by a single person before, let alone a man.

Before Johnny could stop himself, he was slowing down his movements to a seductive grind. He wet his lips, keeping the handsome patron's gaze with his own. Still swaying, he raised one hand above him to grip the pole while the other skidding over his abs. The man's interested smile turned into a lusty smirk, his eyes following the movements.

The spectators around Johnny moved around the platform, getting their money out.

The blonde palmed himself through the leather of his pants, gauging the older man's reaction. A cocked eyebrow was all he got. Johnny thumbed the button briefly, then arched his hips and all but ripped open the fly. The copper haired man licked his lips, hungry for the next movements. Johnny turned and shimmied his lean hips, dipping down a bit with each inch he revealed. He shot the man a look over his shoulder, flaxen hair glowing against his skin. The leather pooled around his feet, revealing a golden thong to match the rest of him.

The men around him were going crazy, he could feel their dollar bills fluttering along his feet.

And just like that, the spell was broken.

Johnny flushed in shame, looking away for the rest of his dance. His movements last their passion, becoming more calculated. He kept his eyes straight ahead or closed, for he knew the handsome patron was still watching him.

Soon enough, he saw his replacement (Cherry, one of the nicer girls that worked at the club) striding toward him. He timed his last swing to the music, ending his routine on the last notes. More bills were tossed, and he smiled real sweetly when some were tucked into his thong by bold hands.

"See you later, boys" he husked, quickly gathering his money with skilled fingers. He knew how to pick up and get out, and just as he stepped off his platform - Cherry stepped on. Just in his thong, he made the dangerous walks of shame to the back room.

The entire time, the mysterious patron watched him.

**xXx**

Just another hour and he could leave. His boss put him on drink dispersion. It required a lot more acting, but at least he got to wear more clothing. He had his leather pants back on and let them hang low on his hips, a solid dark green t-shirt on his torso. It clung to him like a second skin, the material thin enough to outline his muscles.

Johnny hefted the round tray on his open palm, letting the round of beers rest on his shoulder a bit. He weave his way through the club, keeping a warm smile on his face through the ogling and the greedy hands. He arrived at the table, the two girls there eyeing him while the one cheered for their drinks.

"There you are, boys" Johnny gave a flirty giggle, offering the tray down on the table. The bottles disappeared quickly, two martinis for the girls had been hidden amongst the beer and were taken as well. The blonde took the fifty, turning to go and get the change and the next order of drinks for another table. He actually yelped when a thick hand slapped him on the ass, the tray falling from his hands and clattering to the floor. His cheeks flamed, shame filling his gut as he knelt down to grab the tray. He tried to hurry, but one of the man's greasy hands shot out and grabbed him by the chin. He winced, his head forced up while he still crouched on his knees.

"Keep the change, bitch" he said the insult like it was the highest compliment "We'll call you back to earn it, _later_."

Johnny tried to look intrigued, but he was sure only came off looking nauseas. He picked up the tray and got to his feet, hurrying off. He got to the bar, accepting the next set of drinks and nodding dumbly when the bartender pointed out the table. He balanced it carefully on his shoulder once more, trying to smile and he headed toward the table of wrestlers. His face was hot, he could feel the disgraceful flush all over his body. He hated this part of his job, dealing with the greedy hands of the clients in public. It was one thing to get on his knees in an ally, it was a whole other to have his body handled in front of the entire club.

"Here you are, boys" Johnny greeted them like he did everyone else. He laid sat the mixed drinks out and they each took their own, all except for the man on the end. The mysterious patron, the one that had stared at him earlier. He walked to the end of the booth, handing him the last shot of whiskey that had been left on the tray.

"I believe this is yours" Johnny's smile was more sincere now, the man was looking at him with a warm expression.

"Thanks, kid" the man had a subtle drawl to his voice, as inviting and rich as the amber liquid in the shot glass he accepted.

Johnny's blush was from nerves this time. Without a witty response, he took the twenty slid across the table and went back to the bar. He went to the far, shadowed end where the neon behind the bottles of alcohol couldn't touch. He sat the tray on the counter, scrubbing his hand over his eyes. He hated that he felt this way for a man that had come in _here_ of all places.

Someone came up behind him, he could feel their body heat along his back. He whipped around, eyes wide in panic as his mind raced through all the possibilities of what could be happening. All those horrible thoughts stopped when he saw who it was, the wrestler. His eyes were even bluer this close, and Johnny found that his heart slowed down almost immediately. A strange calm washed over him, and he slumped against the bar.

"I saw what happened" the man stated, sympathy (not pity) in his eyes "That wasn't right."

Johnny shook his head, "I'm used to it."

"I'm Shawn" the copper haired man stated, the scent of subtle cologne and natural musk was intoxicating. Johnny wanted to tell him to fuck off, wanted to tell him to fuck him right here…he wanted to tell the handsome man a lot of things. But looks could be deceiving, and he wasn't going to end up in a back ally with his throat slit.

Shawn actually chuckled at the boy's nervousness, "And yours?"

"Nitro" he replied sharply, indicating that all he was gong to get was his stripper name.

Shawn's hand shot past him, causing the blonde to flinch. The man's hand wrapped around the bottle of whiskey on the counter, a smile curling his lips.

"I ordered the bottle."

"Sorry" Johnny murmured.

Shawn took a step back, "I'll find you later."

Johnny's heart sank into his stomach as the man walked away, aching something terrible. That's what the man wanted, it was so clear now. Shawn was a potential client, a trick-to-be. He turned around, hiding the glisten in his eyes. He fought off the urge to be hurt, to be wounded by this sudden knowledge. He sniffled softly, then barked at the bartender for the round of cosmos for one of the all-female tables.

//Mindless sex// Johnny placed the drinks rather carefully on the tray //That's all he wants from me. Meaningless, quick sex.//

It suddenly hurt to breathe, so he picked up the tray and hefted it to his shoulder. He shuffled toward the table, putting on a smile when all he felt like doing was curling up somewhere and dieing.

"Here you go, ladies" he wiggled his eyebrows at them "Sorry for the delay."

One of the girls snapped the exposed string of his thong, getting a roar of giggles from the table.

Johnny somehow managed to keep his smile.

**xXxXxXx**

Shawn plopped back down in his seat at their reserved table, putting the bottle of whiskey down next to his empty shot glass. Though his best friends had the decency to pretend they hadn't noticed his obvious staring at one of the strippers, they did turn to look at him now. Bret was giving him a rather pointed look over the top of his sunglasses, a slight smile on his face. Mark had the rim of his beer to his lips, brow creased. Nash was sitting back in his chair, the large man's hands folded on the table and a smirk twisting his lips. Scott was just shaking his head, since he was the only one in the group _not_ a master. But he was part of The Clique, which was almost as good as being in Hart's Court. Scott just didn't have the right attitude to be a master. He could play dirty enough, but he didn't have the dom instincts nor the urges to claim someone as his own and take care of them. Bret had a sweet female pet, but the rest of them were still looking.

"Well?" Bret prodded.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"Don't play dumb" Kevin scoffed, sitting up and taking his beer "What're you thinking, Shawn?"

"The kid couldn't be nineteen" Shawn sighed, pouring himself another shot "He's jumpy as hell."

"As he should be" Mark swept his eyes around the place "This is a seedy club for a child."

"That poor boy" Shawn muttered, eyes going across the room where the boy was handing out cosmos to a tipsy table of women. They were eyeing him appreciatively, two of the closets girls reaching out once and a while and stroking him.

"He's beautiful" Bret offered.

"Yeah, he is" Shawn breathed, taking in the sight of the enticing stripper. The boy was young, too young, but his dominant instincts didn't care. Nitro was golden, from his hair to his painted lips all the way to the golden thong showing off over the line of his leather pants. Such a beautiful creature, so graceful, just perfect in his eyes. He'd never felt so drawn to someone before, especially not someone so young.

Shawn watched helplessly as a man strode over to Nitro, grabbing the boy's ass and pulling him into his much larger body. The man was tall, dark hair, handsome in a dark way. Nitro flinched away from the touch, but smiled through it. The man whispered something in the boy's ear, it must've been something crude from the way Nitro paled.

Mark tensed, "Maybe you shouldn't watch this, Shawn."

Shawn looked to his best friend, knowing he meant well. But his voice died in his throat when he saw the sleazy man and the beautiful boy exit the table area, going toward the couches that were used for only one thing. Shawn wanted to look away, he truly did, but the something inside him wouldn't let him. The dark man sat down on the couch, spread out his knees and laying his arms along the back of the couch.

Nitro looked to Shawn, eyes filled with humiliation and hurt. But he did his job like a pro. He put a seductive smile on his face, standing before the man and slowly shedding his shirt. He material fell to the floor, his hands running over his own flesh. He mewled, dancing for the man like a common courtesan.

Shawn scowled as the man smirked, eyes filled with lust and all but drooling when Nitro crawled into his lap and straddled him. He was pushed back, sinking into the plush couch as the stripper gyrated in a dance of desire upon him. Nitro's golden locks flew behind him with a sweep of his head, hands taking liberty on his client's body. He had the bastard panting in no time, his hands coming up and gripping the young dancer's hips.

Time slowed down for Shawn, like in a movie. He felt the anger fill his heart, these new possessive feelings were screaming at him to go over and rip the boy from the man's lap. Nitro turned his head and looked over his shoulder, blinking those lovely blue-hazel eyes in an innocent way. He looked so young, so sweet, even bare-chested and giving a lap dance. Tears were there, his lower lip quivering.

He was asking for forgiveness.

The man's hands flared over Nitro's ass, skimming up his back.

Nitro turned back to the man, and it broke Shawn's heart.

Bret watched The Heartbreak Kid, noting the way he slammed down his shot of whiskey and the way he nearly broke the bottle when he re-poured, "Shawn…"

"What?" Shawn barked impatiently.

"…what are you thinking?" Bret asked calmly.

"Nothin' " Shawn lied, refusing to look away even as Nitro unbuttoned his pants and exposed his golden thong once more to hungry eyes.

"You want him, don't you?" Mark inquired, intrigued by this.

"This whole club wants him" Scott snorted, not realizing what they meant.

"How long would it take you to claim him?" Bret asked.

"A half hour, if he's willing" Shawn replied honestly, taking another shot and hissing "An hour if he's not."

"You want him bad, don't you?" Bret tisked, smiling fondly.

Shawn didn't reply, but his mind seemed to be made up already.

"Okay" Bret drained his beer, signaling one of the on-duty strippers to get them another round "We'll stay a bit longer."

Shawn nodded, growling when he saw the man slip a twenty into Nitro's thong.

He made the boy take the second twenty between his teeth, or not at all.

**xXxXxXx**

Johnny was finally off, he went into the back room for the strippers. It was made up of a long counter with a mirror behind the length of it, a vanity for them to get dressed up in front of before they went out. He shed his thong and other clothes, shoving them into a duffle bag and kicking the offending thing under the table. At this point, he didn't care if anyone stole his gear.

Johnny grabbed the washcloth off the counter, he had wet it earlier in the bathroom. He scrubbed at his face, wiping away the golden gloss and rubbing at the shadow and liner that had highlighted his eyes. Once his face was red and fresh, he dropped the cloth on the counter and looked up. Some of the others were flitting through the room, but they knew he was technically jailbait and didn't give him a second look. He couldn't meet his own reflections eyes, but he could smile at the glitter that lingered in his skin. He picked up his brush, eyeing it a moment before running it through his hair.

//How did it get in my hair?// Johnny sighed, throwing the brush away. He smoothed down the fly-aways, but couldn't find it in him to care too much tonight. He was usually so meticulous about his appearances, it was too bad.

Johnny changed into a pair of plain jeans, pulling on a black button up and cursing when he accidentally ripped off the third. It had already happen to the first two, leaving the material gaping midway between his pecs. He threw his jean jacket over top of it, the bulky material covering him. He grabbed his wallet, shaking it and smiling in relief when he heard bus tokens. He shoved it into his back pocket, wondering what he would be eating tonight. His stomach growled, but he told it to be quiet.

Johnny strode confidentially out of the room, keeping to the walls of the club so as not to attract anymore attention to himself. He couldn't stop himself from glancing to the wrestlers table, but they were gone. He was relieved, he couldn't handle those piercing sapphire eyes on him again. Earlier, when he had been in that man's lap, he'd nearly gotten ill at the thought of Shawn watching him commit such a shameful act.

John went out the side door, the one that emptied into a side ally of an apartment building and a fence. It took him a few minutes to adjust to the dim light, but soon he could see like day. He started down the ally, looking straight ahead and praying nothing would happen. It just so happened that this night…he didn't have his pepper spray.

To prove he was truly God-forsaken, his prayer went unanswered. Someone grabbed him by the shoulders, swinging him around and pinning him to the fence.

"Take my damn money, I don't care!" Johnny screamed, clenching his eyes shut as he prepared himself to be hit "Every fucking night with you people!"

There was a soft chuckle, "Why are you screaming, Johnny?"

Johnny cracked open an eye, surprised to see none other than Shawn standing there in front of him. With the way the street light caught in his copper hair, he looked somewhat divine.

"What the hell?" Johnny didn't make a move to get away, in a way he didn't want to "How do you know my name?"

"I asked around" Shawn ran his eyes over the younger man "I gave you a chance to tell me yourself."

"You can't trust people who approach you in the club" the blonde stated softly, he blushed under the gaze.

"I know" Shawn reached out, gathering the boy's mane of blonde hair and letting it all spill over one shoulder "You're a good, smart boy, aren't you Johnny? You know how to keep yourself safe."

Johnny nodded, sighing out as the man stroked his hair like it was an exotic silk.

"You little bottle blonde" Shawn murmured, raising the boy's head with a thumb under his chin "I can see your roots, sweetheart."

"The men in there prefer blondes."

Shawn closed his eyes briefly, heart tugging at the innocent words, "What's your real hair color?"

"Black."

"You'd look so beautiful with your hair black" Shawn's lips quirked "I wish I could see it natural."

Johnny tried not to tremble too much, but the Heartbreak Kid felt it, "You're scared, aren't you?"

"No" Johnny lied, straightening up and looking the man in the eyes. He slapped his hand away, crossing his arms over his chest and raising his chin.

"If you want a fuck-" Johnny's lower lip trembled a bit, but he forced it still "-it's fifty on my knees, a hundred on my back."

Shawn shook his head, amused, "You poor, sweet 'thang."

Johnny found himself pressed against the fist again, the man up in his personal space. His breath hitched, Shawn's hands fisted either side of his jean jacket and pulled it down his shoulders. It fell to the ground, forgotten as his hands touched his shirt lapel next. Nitro was afraid for a moment that the man was going to take him right here, fuck him raw, rip off his shirt. But that didn't happen.

Shawn gently parted the material as much as it would allow without taking off any buttons, exposing his glittering skin.

"Yer far too pretty to be giving it cheap."

Johnny's eyes fluttered shut, the older man stepped closer and dipped his head down. The blonde's head was tilted back, exposing his neck. Shawn dropped a sweet kiss along his collarbone, getting the kid to shudder. He ran his hands down the boy's torso, settling on his hips.

"I told you" he panted "I'm used to it."

"You shouldn't have to be used to any of this" Shawn replied honestly.

"What do you want?" Johnny sounded so broken, it physically hurt HBK to hear this beautiful creature so defeated. He slipped a hundred dollar bill into his front pocket, smiling reassuringly.

"I'm not here to fuck you raw in a dark ally" Shawn assured him "I came to offer you some hope."

"What?" Nitro bit back tears, dropping his head back down.

"You sweet little glitter-doll" Shawn swept his eyes over the boy again, lust and love hot in his belly "I'm here to take you out of this hell hole. I'm going to take you back to my hotel room, we're going to stay there, and then I'm going to get you started on a new life."

It sounded too much like forbidden fruit.

"And in return?" Johnny asked, almost afraid to know the answer.

Shawn reached up and unhooked the necklace from around his neck. Instead, he slid it around the blonde's slender and latched it firmly along his neck. The chain was warm from the older man's skin, settling on him rather nicely. The weight was welcome, it grounded him.

"In return…you'll be mine" Shawn wasn't going to lie to the kid, he didn't want to hurt him further "It's going to be a few weeks before I get home, my job makes me travel. You'll be with me, and I'm going to start molding a future for you. I think you might be wrestling material."

"Wrestling?" Johnny's brow creased "Like fighting? I'm a little…"

"Scrawny?"

Johnny nodded.

"You're not, sweetheart, you've got potential" Shawn ran a hand down the man's arm, pressing his thumb into the muscles "I think you'll do well."

Johnny reached up, touching the necklace around his neck, "I'll be…yours?"

"Yeah, Johnny" Shawn slid his hand up the boy's tan neck, threading his fingers through his hair "I'll mold you in my image. You'll be my perfect protégé. I'll teach you all that I know."

Johnny looked the older man over, growing hard in his jeans, "And…?"

"So eager for me?" Shawn grinned smugly, putting his arms out on either side of the blonde and pinning him to the fence "I'm going to take you to my home. I'm going to spoil you rotten, glitter-bug. I'm going to lay you out on silk sheets, worship your body the way it deserves…" Shawn dipped down, barely brushing their lips "…show you just how amazing sex can be, how high I can take you. I'll leave you in want of nothing, sweetheart."

Johnny melted into him, tears rolling down his cheeks. Shawn embraced the boy, sweeping him into his arms and putting his chin atop his head. He knew the boy would grow in the next few years, maybe get as tall as himself. He could see the wrestling potential in this lean young boy…in his sub.

Yes, his sub, his boy, his sweet glitter-doll. He was already so tender toward him. Bret had told him that he'd know when he'd found his sub, that he'd have these sudden feelings of possessiveness and care. Love, even.

"I'm filthy" Nitro mumbled into the man's shoulder, sniffling pathetically "I-I've had so many tricks…I've done some horrible stuff…"

None of that mattered to Shawn. He pulled back, the boy whimpered.

"Hush, glitter-bug" Shawn shed his thick leather jacket, wrapping it around his boy's shoulders "There you go. Come with me."

Johnny followed the older man down the ally, trusting him completely. He didn't know why, but the weight of the silver chains around his neck told him that everything would be okay. The jacket was warm and smelled delicious; he curled into Shawn's side and enjoyed the smell. He knew he'd come to crave that scent as a comfort.

They approached a large SUV; Shawn opened the door in the very back for him. He got in first, offering his arms out to the boy. Johnny crawled in after him, curling into his side. Shawn smiled down at him indulgently, slamming the door shut before wrapping an arm around the blonde's middle. He didn't bother buckling them in, Mark was a safe driver.

Johnny looked around the car, pulling himself tighter to the older man's side. There were other men in the car, all older than Shawn and just as muscular. One was already passed out, head lulled back on the seat in front of him and snoring. The one beside him, with pitch dark hair, was turned to give him a look that held a certain degree of fondness. The man with the skull cap over his hair was looking toward him as well, seeming to access him and his potential.

The man driving only a fool wouldn't recognize.

"Bret Hart…" Johnny breathed, in awe.

"Oh yeah" Shawn dropped a kiss into his hair, slinging his free arm over the back of the empty seat beside him "I'll tell you all about this in the morning. It'll take you a bit to get used to…but I think you'll be happy here, Johnny."

The younger nodded obediently, closing his eyes and burrowing into the thick leather coat around him.

Bret looked in the rearview mirror, suppressing a snicker when he saw that Shawn's hands were coated in glitter. Shawn had always been a flamboyant wrestler, even more in person.

//That boy was made for him// Bret decided //If he lets himself shine…//

"What are you thinking, Bret?" Mark inquired, looking to the Head Master.

"That boy's gonna be big" Bret started up the SUV, shades hiding the delight in his eyes "Mark my words: He'll out-glitter Shawn one day."

But Shawn couldn't care less, he was too busy stroking his sub's hair and crooning him to sleep.

* * *

**I'm really happy with this, you don't even know. So happy, in fact, that I'm going to write a little more to it and even try my hand at an Evan one-shot. I'm SO glad I started this series.**


	2. Chapter 2

**This is a glimpse of John Morrison's career over a few years. Just snips, nothing really long like Cody and Ted's story.**

**I know I said earlier that Scott Hall wasn't a master. But I reconsidered when I realized how small Hart's court was compared to 'Taker's court. He was okay looking back then. And even though I HATE him on TNA right now, I'm willing to let it go as long as he doesn't have a sub.**

**Hart's court isn't as lucky as 'Taker's, there aren't a lot of subs in this faction. I'm basically using New World Order and The Kliq as bases here.**

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Johnny Hennigan was merely a stripper named Nitro a few months ago. Now, eighteen and taken out of that poison environment, he was ready to start his new life. Shawn had been nothing if not a gentleman with him, feeding and clothing him and giving him his own bed in the hotels. But this last thing Johnny didn't want. The second night he was in Shawn's care, he had given up his body. He didn't care what kind of harlot that made him look like, it was what he felt was right.

Shawn had been slow and patient with him at first, teaching him how to pleasure while dishing it out for the younger to devour. Johnny knew the basics, he knew how to get a trick off with the least amount of attention, but he had never really _felt_ those hollow moans or had the urge to writhe. But Shawn knew things, the older man had forgotten things that the younger couldn't dream of knowing. He could draw out his orgasm to a full minute, he knew how long to stroke or lick a certain spot to drive him crazy, and he'd discovered that spot inside him that caused the most pleasure.

A hundred tricks had never caused him so much pleasure.

Johnny had never let anyone fuck him without a condom. That had been a strict rule with the john's. But with Shawn, he knew right away that no other man would have him and now was the time to give up that last piece of himself. Shawn had taken it with pride, lavishing him with affection that he probably didn't deserve. He had spent hours in the Heartbreak Kid's bed, simply soaking in this new love and all these new sensations.

Never again would Johnny let another between his sheets.

Johnny was introduced to a different world, a world of wrestling and masters. That was what Shawn was, a master in Bret Hart's 'court'. It was strange to him, he'd never heard of such a thing in the WWF. He only watched a little, but he now knew enough to feel proud that Shawn Michaels himself had chosen him out of so many. Nash, another in the court, had explained to him early on that Shawn liked to take many in his bed – but only one would be his sub. That person was Johnny, and he had accepted the position eagerly. He learned from Bret's girl how to be a sub, what was expected of him and where he would sit and such.

The subject that kept coming up was: What would Johnny do now with his life?

Johnny found out quick enough that Shawn had many plans for him. The first was going on now.

Johnny looked into the mirror, worry on his handsome face. He watched his 'master' approach him with a pair of clippers, a solemn look on his face. The blonde's hair was freshly washed and falling down his back, an innocent victim to HBK's whims.

"Shawn, are you..." Johnny paused, wetting his lips "_Master..._are you sure this is necessary?"

"What really defines 'necessary' anyway?" Shawn mused, standing just behind his sub and laying a hand on his shoulder.

"Master!" Johnny spat, not amused by the light-hearted demeanor the older man had about him.

"Relax, Johnny" Shawn cooed, caressing his bare shoulder "The first step is always the hardest. I'm going to make you the most beloved wrestler in the world, sweetheart. Your career will only be second to mine. You can't question me on every decision."

"But..." Johnny looked at himself in the mirror "My hair? All of it?"

"No, not all of it" Shawn assured him, moving his hand up to pet through the long tresses "Just to your roots. Ya know...spike it up."

"Gah!" Johnny ducked his head, covering his hair with his hands "I change my mind, I don't want to do it."

"Now, dammnit, boy" Shawn huffed, catching his boy's eyes in the mirror and glaring fiercely "Do you trust me or not?"

Johnny raised his head slowly, chin resting on the desk the mirror was behind. It seemed pretty rash to cut off all his hair, just because it was dyed. HBK saw his sub's hesitation, and something in his eyes softened. Out of all his whores, he was never so kind as he was to his precious stripper.

"Okay, here's a deal" Shawn began, holding the clippers up "If you let me cut it now, let it get all fresh, then when you're older and have already started your career...I'll let you dye it again."

Johnny perked up at the idea. He loved his blonde hair, he thought he looked damn good as a blonde. It couldn't hurt to give his scalp a rest, let it go black again. He was wise enough to know that all his decisions right now were still done on hormones alone, so he nodded and let his master have the decision. He sat up straighter, offering his head for whatever the man wanted.

"My good boy" Shawn thumbed on the switch, grinning "Now tilt your head back..."

**xXxXxXx**

Shawn found out his boy was beautiful no matter how long or short his hair was. He kept his hair short for months, actually growing used to the look. He learned whatever he could about the business, sticking close to Shawn's side no matter what. After turning freshly twenty, Shawn finally let the leash off to send his boy to college. It was under the suggestion of Bret that the boy be allowed to explore what he wanted, but Johnny was ready to enter the wrestling world. Johnny had bloomed in a confidant, beautiful young man with an ego to match his looks. He gave an aura of loveliness, charming everyone around him within minutes of meeting them.

When he was twenty-one, he was going into OVW. Until then, he lived and traveled with Shawn and dealt with his eclectic lifestyle. Shawn liked to party, he liked to drink like a fiend and he wasn't shy about what pills he had to pop to make his aching body ready for another match. He loved the clubs, the bars, and he loved nothing more than to get completely smashed and make an ass of himself.

A year and a half…that's how long Johnny put up with this behavior. He looked the other way, he tucked him into bed when he was too messed up to do it himself, and he made excuses for him when the rest of the court couldn't find him. He loved Shawn, he'd do anything for him, and he wasn't above protecting his reputation or his career.

So many times did Johnny just have to brush Shawn off and all but shove him down the ramp towards the ring.

One night ended all others.

**xXx**

_1998_

Shawn was laughing boisterously, for once in his own home. Nash was scowling, half-dragging him through the threshold with Bret Hart following close behind. The rest of the Hart Court filed in, most looking rather pissed at having to take HBK home. They'd been at the bar, and Shawn had gotten them kicked out of two before Bret decided to call it a night.

The rest of the court, from the highest ranking to the lowest, was Mark…then Steve Austin, Razor Ramon (Scott) and Edge. Scott had been approved just a year ago, not long after that night at the strip club that got them Nitro. He had proved to be a dom in that time, showing off his skill and power in the ring. Bret knew Hall couldn't last long in their intense world, but he was a good friend and one with heavy sway, he could allow it for now. Scott hadn't taken a sub, it was doubtful he ever would, but they wouldn't destroy their friendship over that.

Their newest member was a timid blonde Canadian, Chris Jericho, a fresh faced young man with long hair. He'd been in WCW and had recently been in some Japanese wrestling, his debut on the WWF was going to be infamous. In a few weeks, he'd start off against The Rock. He was still hesitant about his place in Hart's court, and he inched inside the house before shutting the door behind him.

"Come on, guys, the night ain't done!" Shawn declared, breaking away from Nash and stumbling toward his kitchen. He started rifling around for his whiskey, ready to continue his night of self-destruction.

Scott sighed heavily, scrubbing a hand over his face, "We can't let this keep happenin', Bret."

"I know" Bret hated to see one of his own like this.

"He's been having a rough time" Mark stated, trying to find a reason for one of his best friend's recent behavior "Our Casket match didn't go well, Bret, you know this. His back hit the casket, he herniated two disks."

"He crushed the other one" Steve winced "I'm scheduled to get the belt at Wrestlemania. They say he can't go on much longer, he's in too much pain."

"Did they tell you what they were planning for him?" Adam asked, raking back his long flaxen hair.

Kevin nodded, "Appearance spots. No matches, but he'll be WWF Commissioner."

"It's all I could spring for him after who he's pissed off" Bret hated to say it, but it was the truth "Vince is already frustrated with me. I can't do much more than keep his job."

Scott put a hand on his friend's shoulder, lips quirking, "It's okay, Boss. We know that you can't control _everything_ that goes on."

"McMahon is just tryin' to fill his daddy's shoes right" Steve drawled "He's gettin' used to the idea of havin' someone that controls the inside of the business."

Shawn came back into the room, whiskey to his lips, "There's plenty, guys."

"I think we've had enough" Scott stated, unafraid of the smaller man.

Shawn all but sputtered, "There's never enough 'drank, boys!"

"Master?"

The timid call came from the top of the stairs. Their heads turned to find Johnny coming down the stairs in nothing but a pair of jeans, short raven curls dark with his most recent shower. His bare feet barely made a sound against the stairs, certain reluctance about him. His full lips were plump in an unconscious pout, brow creased, obviously confused about why everyone was here. He looked afraid, that was for sure. Truly beautiful, but close to terrified at the sight of his inebriated keeper.

"There's my perfect whore" Shawn slurred, stumbling to the base of the stairs and grabbing onto the railing "Come 'ere, boy."

Johnny flushed at being called such a thing, descending towards the man, "Did you have fun?"

"I'm about to" Shawn growled, grabbing the brunette by the front of his jeans and yanking him off the steps. Johnny yelped, bare skin stinging as he was smacked into the wall. Johnny's lips were claimed, he whimpered at the tang of alcohol and the sting of stubble against his sensitive mouth. He didn't struggle, he would never disobey his master.

"Shawn" Bret's tone was filled with warning "I think you should let your sub take you upstairs to bed."

"I'll get 'im in bed, alright" Shawn yanked open the brunette's fly, roughly thumbing open the button to reveal the smooth caramel skin of his groin. Johnny's cheeks were stained crimson now, slowly inching himself away from the older man. Just enough to keep some dignity about them. That idea was tossed out the window when Shawn yanked him back, latching his mouth onto his neck. It was a weak spot of his, and he couldn't stop the small moan that escaped his lips.

"That's my sweet boy…"

"Shawn!" Bret snapped, finally loosing his temper with HBK "You're drunk off your ass! If you don't get to bed now, you'll regret it in the morning."

"H-He's right, Shawn" Johnny tried to speak up, lightly touching the man's chest "You'll feel horrible when you wake up. I'll get you some Tylenol and wat-"

The sweet croon was broken off by a sharp slap, the force jolting him against the wall once more. His knees gave out, and he knelt at his master's feet like an obedient pet. His cheek was on fire, his master hadn't hesitated to strike him down as hard as he could. It had hurt, but what it hurt most was his heart. Shawn only hit him when he was drunk, and never with a closed fist. Well…one night he did, but that was the pills. The drugs! Not his master!

Steve stepped up to protest, but Nash but a hand on his chest. It wasn't their place, they had to let Shawn learn and grow for himself.

"You're _mine_" Shawn grabbed the younger man by the arm, yanking him to his feet "You take _my_ side, you hear me? You're loyal to _me_ first!"

"Yes! I know, I'm sorry, please" Johnny begged, trying not to cry out as he was all but dragged up the stairs. He stumbled, struggling to keep his footing along the hard edges. Shawn was stronger than him and much more determined, he didn't have a chance. He kept begging him quietly to let him go, to not make a scene.

"I'll make a damn scene!" Shawn barked, pissed that the others were trying to run his life. He was a grown man, with a sub of his own. He would do whatever the hell he felt like! And from the heat curling in his groin, he knew exactly what he wanted to do. He nearly kicked open their bedroom door, still half-dragging the boy inside.

Bret dropped his hand from Austin's chest, "Follow him."

They filed single-file up the stairs, ready to confront their companion.

Shawn swung his sub around, forcing him to his body and looking down into his blue-hazel eyes, "Get on the bed."

Johnny hesitated, getting the man's fingertips to dig sharply into his arms. He didn't want to do this, not while Shawn was drunk like this. He'd never deny his master's unbridled lust, but this was too much. It wasn't Shawn, it was the dark side of him that no sub should experience in their master.

"My pretty boy" Shawn grabbed him by the chin, holding his jaw tight "Lay."

Johnny silently obeyed, sitting down on the bed. Shawn's hand fell away as he scooted backward, trying and failing not to be sexy. HBK peeled off his own shirt, exposing the fine muscles of his chest. Johnny was flush with lust at the sight, his master only got hotter each day they were together. He settled in the middle of the bed, keeping his eyes on the older man's heaving chest. He couldn't settle himself down, no matter how many horrible things he conjured up.

/Don't give in, he's drunk…he's smacked you around like this before…/

Shawn nodded at his jeans, "Take those off."

"No, Master" he murmured.

The dark blonde's lips curled up in a snarl, "What did you say to me?"

"No" Johnny replied, biting his lower lip "Don't make me."

This angered the Heartbreak Kid more. How dare his boy refuse him? _Now_, when he needed him the most? Shawn's career was crumbling away in front of him. He couldn't control his pain, his life, his career…all he could control was the young man trembling on his coverlet. Nothing was worse than being in too much paint o pleasure his sub. To have to pop a few pain pills just to perform was starting to get to him.

In his drunken haze, Johnny was his to fuck whenever he felt like. Against his will or not.

Shawn got on the bed, bracing himself on his knees and snatching for his boy's angle. Johnny whimpered as he was pulled onto his back, sliding under the older man's body and pinned down like an exotic butterfly. Shawn started to attack his throat and lips with wet kisses, scraping his teeth along the sensitive skin to leave red marks in his wake. He groped the young body hard, letting his nails bite into him, hitting harder with each passing second.

"Master, don't do this" Johnny pleaded, tears threatening to pour down his cheeks as he arched away from the pain "You're…you're hurting me…"

Those words shook Shawn to his core, snapping his out of his haze. He braced his hands on the bed, pushing-up over his sub and looking down at him. Johnny still had his head turned away, eyes clenched shut as the shameful tears rolled down the swell of his cheeks. He was clenching the sheets for dear life, skin starting to darken and redden from Michaels' assault.

"Johnny…" Shawn sighed, reaching out and gently cupping his boy's cheek. Johnny cracked open his eyes, trying not to make anymore pathetic sounds as his master looked down at him with such longing. Before HBK could apologize, a hand had clamped down on the back of his neck and yanked him off the mattress. He flailed, but Bret was too strong. He found himself dragged around to stand in front of his Head Master, the dark haired man's fierce gaze burning into him.

"Do you think this is acceptable behavior?" Bret roared in his face, holding him by the base of his neck "What kind of example are you setting for our youngest?"

Bret swept his hand at the blonde who was standing in the doorway. Chris bowed his head, almost ashamed that he had been caught staring. In truth, he had been taking mental notes on how to treat a sub. He hadn't seen Bret's woman, nor had he had any encounter with Jay yet (Edge was very protective of his younger brother/sub.) This was the only example he had to go off of.

There was nothing Shawn could say for himself, he hung his head in shame.

"You better wise-up, Michaels" Bret spat, letting the younger man go "I don't want to see you lay a hand on your sub again. I won't tolerate that in my court. Do you understand me?"

Mark was watching him closely, learning. He started ushering the others out, but Jericho lingered to watch by the door. Mark let him, the man had to learn as well.

"Yes, sir" Shawn nodded dejectedly.

"This boy loves you" Bret took his shoulders, more gently this time "We're your friends. We care about our own. You need to stop with this self-destruction. You're killing yourself, you know that? You're destroying the Shawn Michaels that has been and will be with this kind of behavior."

Michaels nodded again, hanging his head.

"It's not just you anymore" Bret turned him around, making him face the bed. Shawn wilted under the Head Master's hands, gazing upon the bed. Johnny was struggling to fix the fly of his pants, sniffling back his tears with a flush of shame on his face. He happened to look up right then, a heartbroken expression on his beautiful face.

"You've got someone to take care of" Bret whispered in his ear "Don't be so quick to forget that."

Shawn knew to obey the Head Master, Bret only wanted what was best. Bret walked past the blonde, stopping just beside the bed. He motioned Johnny closer, and the younger man obeyed.

"Sir" Johnny whispered respectfully, bowing his head. Bret cupped his unmaimed cheek, raising his head once more. He gazed into his face, seeing just as much potential as he did all that time ago. A beautiful boy, a superstar-to-be for sure. Bret could just see it now, and from what Shawn was already half-planning - the boy would have it made. Stick him in a tag team to start him off, put him with a stronger guy and maybe a pretty female valet looking for a push.

Glitz and glamour…personified sexiness to start out. Then cool it off, and make a champion out of him.

"I see gold around his waist" Bret prophesized, showing the younger man's face to Shawn's unwavering gaze "Don't you, Shawn? Can't you see a champion in your boy here?"

Shawn nodded, smiling just as fondly.

"Would you ruin him because of _that_?" Bret spat, nodding toward the forgotten bottle of whiskey lying on the floor making a puddle.

"Never" Shawn swore, looking to the Head Master "I can take care of this now."

Bret released John, slipping his shades on and exiting the room, "I believe you."

Once they were alone, Shawn shut the door. The blonde walked past the bed, sitting down beside his sub on the mattress. Johnny looked to his master rather hopefully, cheek still stinging from the blow he'd received earlier. Michaels lifted his hand, running his knuckles over the boy's heated flesh.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart" Shawn sighed, blood-shot eyes looking rather weary "I should've never put my hands on you. Ain't right. You haven't done anything wrong, and I'm just a big jackass."

Johnny actually smiled, "I know you'd never hurt me, Master."

"That's the problem, glitter-bug, I _have_ hurt you" Shawn chuckled bitterly, his smile just as sour "I don't deserve someone so beautiful…so forgivin' as you. This has to stop."

Johnny started to panic, but the older man saw this coming.

"Not _us_, just this" Shawn gestured to himself, showing that he was what was wrong with them "What I'm doin' to us. I need to fix myself. You deserve better than what I'm givin' you."

Johnny nuzzled into the touch, "I love you, Shawn…I always will."

"My boy" Shawn murmured, wishing for a kiss but knowing he couldn't enjoy it with the way he felt "If you'll stay with me…I can fix our lives. I can make us rise again."

Despite the stench of alcohol, Johnny leant in and stole a chaste kiss from his master.

"I believe in you."


	3. Chapter 3

**This gets really confusing, and I'm sorry for it. Years, timelines…it's just not my thing.**

* * *

From then on, Shawn spoiled his boy. This meant doing what was best –not for himself- but for his sub. He hated letting Johnny go, but he had taught the boy enough to hold his own.

He won _Tough Enough III_ by himself and won himself a WWE contract, but with Shawn's permission. As he started to grow out his luscious locks and become his own man, Shawn decided to step in and give him a boost.

Johnny was given his first real taste of the WWE by kayfabing as Eric Bischoff's apprentice. This was done only by the word of Shawn, so it only lasted four months. But he made his point. He showed off his skill, his potential, and people started paying attention. Unfortunately, he was sent back to OVW after a stipulation match.

He wasn't alone. A small kid named Evan, Chris's precious new pet, joined him at a young age. They trained together, Johnny picking up some high flyer moves from the younger man. They were about four years apart, and Evan didn't stay long, but they grew a bond.

Evan went to places like TNA, RoH, and the Independent Circuit. The WWF was a far reach for him, but Chris was happy that his youngling was getting the experience of all forms of wrestling. He himself had done so, unlike Shawn. Shawn was born into and always ran with the WWF (except for that stint in WCW.) He wanted the same for Johnny, so Bourne couldn't be his constant companion.

Shawn had spies to watch over his boy, so he didn't worry much.

But there were big changes for the Court. Later in '98, Bret started to seriously train Mark to take over for him. The Undertaker was definitely Head Master material, and Bret even allowed him to give a pet to a young man wishing to join them in a few years – Randy Orton. Things were rough, but it seemed for a while that everything was going to be fine.

Until Kevin approached Mark one night after RAW, a frown marring his features.

"I'm done" Kevin stated, clasping his friend's shoulder "Don't take this too personal, but I can't see this group surviving much longer as it is."

"What should I do?" Mark inquired, upset that all his friend's were abandoning him "You're the beta, you do something."

"Bret doesn't want me around anymore, and I've got opportunities else where" Kevin tried to keep his tone soft "You see what happens when the Head Master falters? Too many masters without a leash around them destroy this company."

"Tell me what I'm supposed to do, Kev."

"You're supposed to rise up, take control" Kevin clenched his fist, smirking outright "You're The Undertaker. You can form your own court, with your own rules. You've seen what can happen, you've seen Bret's mistakes. Don't let yourself make the same ones."

"What if I can't-"

"_Yes. You. Can._" Kevin growled, firm with the younger man "You've got this, you hear me? You can do this by yourself. If you were going to take control of this thing, what would your first step be?"

Mark thought hard about it, "Finding a beta I can trust."

"Good man" Kevin clapped his shoulder, stepping back "Bret will be gone in days, and it'll just be you. I have a feeling you've already decided. Talk to him soon. Don't let this whole court wither and die."

Mark nodded, watching his friend walk out of a WWF arena for the last time.

Yes, he did have an idea.

**xXx**

Undertaker got Shawn alone one night in the younger man's hotel room. Johnny was at his master's feet, silk pajamas buttoned up his chest and covering his legs. He was looking between the masters, dark hair sweeping along his neck. Both older men were serious, grave expressions on their faces.

Shawn spoke up long after the story was told, "You're sure about this?"

"Bret's ready to leave before the week is out" Mark replied, leaning back in his chair "I give Steve another year. Dedicated or no. Scott's done, for good. Kevin's gone to do his own thing for a while. I believe he wants to try and revive WCW."

"Self-sacrificing bastard" Shawn scrubbed a hand over his mouth "Where's that leave us? You, me? Chris? Adam? What about that protégée of yours, Orton? And his pretty present? What will _we_ do?"

"Bret's become unreliable" a dark gleam came to the Undertaker's eyes "Me? I'm a bit more sturdy."

"You?" Shawn breathed. Even as he said it, he had already agreed. Mark had been groomed for the job. He had a dominant personality, he could give orders, he used his reason, and he had Vince in his good graces.

"Me" Mark replied, a smirk curling his lips.

Shawn gazed down at his sub, petting his hair lovingly, "Things will change for the better, I hope?"

The older man nodded, "If you'll agree to be my second."

Shawn looked up sharply, surprised at the statement, "Me?"

"Yes, _you_."

Shawn sputtered out several reasons why this was a horrible idea, but Undertaker wouldn't hear of it.

"I can't reform the court if you aren't there beside me" he was serious, he needed people who he could trust with him during this.

Reluctantly, Shawn agreed to give it his best.

"You know what this means?' Mark was speaking to Nitro now, looking to the young man "When you're ready, you'll get a bigger push. You'll be the head sub, above all the others. I'll need you to be a good role model for the others."

Johnny dared speak up, "But Jay is older than me."

"That doesn't matter" Mark stood, walking over and taking the boy's chin in between his thumb and forefinger "You'll have to grow up fast here, boy."

Shawn loosely wrapped an arm around his sub's neck, laying his hand tenderly upon his pec and drawing him back against the chair. It was a protective gesture, one to keep his boy from scrutiny.

"he's a smart boy, Mark" Shawn assured his new leader, letting Johnny rest his head on his knee "He'll do what I tell him."

"I'm a hands-on leader, Shawn."

"I know, Mark. As long as you don't let us down, we'll follow you. I assure that."

**xXx**

The truth came out days later. Vince had done everything he could to get Bret fired, hating him ever since that Montreal Screwjob. Vince felt that Hart's Court had too much sway, seeing as it was made up of some of his strongest stables. When Bret was fired, the masters of his court were pissed and started to rebel. The fans rebelled, he lost money, and he lost control of his superstars.

Diesel (Nash) left. Austin turned against Vince completely, doing everything he could to destroy the man's reputation and going against all that he stood for just to piss him off. Edge did what he wanted, and with his sub they dominated the Tag-Team Championship without much resistance.

The masters started to do whatever they wanted.

In late in '99, there was a fall out. Bret was fired from the company, even WCW didn't want him anymore. He had changed into a bitter man, having lost his brother to the business. The Hart Court suffered for this. Scott left on bad terms and went to WCW. Austin refused to be a part of this. His wife, his sub, had gotten dominant on him and he was trying to reassert his place. Austin spiraled out of control with his hatred of Vince, and left permanently in '02.

Bret left at the start of 2000, his passing-of-the-torch to Undertaker was just spiteful. It involved lots of screaming, and they both ended up with black eyes.

"_Fine! Have it! Control a bunch of bastards who will never give a damn about what you do for them! Don't ever expect a thanks!"_

And unlike Bret, Mark didn't expect anything from his court.

Soon after Bret left, Mark recruited Shawn as his second. John Cena, a man he quickly came to trust and care for, became his third. The Hardy Boyz joined soon after.

Undertaker set his court up with trustworthy men with beautiful, faithful subs.

And he was the better for it.


	4. Chapter 4

_2004_

Johnny stood in the middle of his dressing room, gazing at himself in the mirror. His long, blonde hair spilled down his back in loose ringlets (he had wet it earlier.) Faint liner highlighted his eyes, a little glitter along his chest. His pants were sparkly enough, as was the thick golden-ivory coat hanging up on the walk next to the vanity. Crystal-studded sunglasses sat on the table, catching the light rather brilliantly. The faux-fur around his shins was soft, the sparkle-patterns on his pants just as brilliant. His muscles were primed and ready to entertain the masses.

The spotlight would be hot tonight.

Who said life didn't come full circle?

A knock on the door startled him, but he settled back down when he saw his master slip inside the room. He was already in his Heartbreak Kid gear, copper hair pulled back in a low ponytail. Johnny smiled brightly, turning and receiving an embrace fro his master. He had toned and grown over the years, but he was just a bit shorter than the older man.

"My boy" Shawn pulled away, gazing into that beautiful face "I haven't seen you in weeks."

"I'm sorry" Johnny mewled, rubbing his cheek into the hand cupping his face "I've been so busy. I had to meet Melina and Joey, all the training, the practice…I'd have rather spent it with you."

"I know" Shawn smiled crookedly "So, is the rumor I heard true? After 'Blaze' and 'Spade' and 'Superstar'…you've finally come up with a name for yourself?"

"Johnny Nitro" he smiled back, though much more sweetly "Do you like it?"

Johnny giggled as he was turned around, his master's arms wrapping around his waist as he faced with his own reflection.

"It's fitting" Shawn dropped a kiss on his sub's neck, still admiring his beauty in the mirror "You're even more beautiful than when I first saw you."

"Thank you."

"You deserve it" Shawn pulled away, putting his hands on his hips "Now get out of here, you're on in ten. Your groupie's waitin' on you."

"I told you, she's my friend" Johnny couldn't help but laugh, the adrenaline was starting to pump through his body "No reason to get jealous."

Shawn nodded, watching his sub take his heavy coat off the hook and swinging it over his shoulders. A few graceful movements and it was hugged snugly against his body. For such a large piece of clothing, it sure accentuated his body line.

"Well, here goes nothing" Johnny shot his master a wink, striding across MNM's dressing room "Wish me luck."

Shawn grabbed the forgotten sunglasses, "John!"

Johnny turned around, shocked at the name. Not once in almost six years had anyone called him 'John.' It always seemed too grown up for him, too somber. Shawn crooked his finger at him, then pointed to the floor in front of him.

"Come. Kneel."

Johnny obeyed the direct order. Even in all his ring gear and glitter, he knelt down at Shawn Michaels' feet. He leant forward, kissing the 'HBK' label at the front of the man's pants. The silver chain around the younger blonde's throat shined brightly against his dark skin. It was a symbol of his possession, and that gesture showed it.

"You're growing up way too fast" Shawn sounded like a proud father, but the mixture of lust and love in his eyes told the true story "But you deserve this push, you've worked hard to get to this point."

Shawn ran his fingers over his boy's face, palms cradling his jaw, "I'll help ya all I can, but I think you can make it on your own."

"I can do this" Johnny looked up at him imploringly "I promise to make you proud."

"You already do, glitter-doll" Shawn assured him, unfolding the sunglasses "Stand up, John."

Johnny obeyed, accepting the shades. He slid them on, puckering his lips rather cutely.

"How do I look?" he inquired.

"Beautiful" Shawn ran his knuckles over the younger man's pec, glitter clinging to his fingers "My handsome John."

With a last kiss, Johnny strode out of the room with his aura of confidence thrown around him like a cloak.

Shawn crossed his arms over his chest, cocking his head to the side as he thought over how much his boy was growing up on him. But 'Nitro' wouldn't stick, just the like others - it would fade.

/John…maybe, John Morrison./

The name would suit him soon enough.

*LINE*

**Done! Totally done with this one. I didn't want to draw it out too much, I think it was rather perfect. Four chapters…that's quite enough. Hope you enjoyed it! I struggled through the last chapters, but the first one was pure fun. I wanted to put something with JBL or Hunter feeling JoMo up a bit.**

**All stories in this verse are (in order to be read):**

"_**And Don't Forget To Let Your Heart Beat**_**" - Cody's Story**

"_**I'm A Match Burning Out**_**" - Ted's Story**

"_**My Love is Just Waiting To Turn Your Tears to Roses" - **_**Evan's story**

"_**Far Too Pretty To Be Giving It Cheap**_**" - Nitro's story**

"_**This Fire Burns All The Way**_**" - Miz and Punk's story**

"_**So Happy I Could Die**_**" - Edge and Christian's snippet**

"_**Under the Rose**_**" - The Court's story, the main story**

"_**I Don't Need No Heaven or Hell**_**" - Kevin Nash/Chris Sabin/Alex Shelley story**

"_**My Submission is Your Addiction**_**" - Alex Riley/Justin Gabriel story**


End file.
